


Chained

by AGDragonchild



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hope is a thing, Love is a thing, M/M, Poor Obi-Wan, Time Line Manipulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-05-19 04:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGDragonchild/pseuds/AGDragonchild
Summary: Obi-Wan was never taken to the temple, but was instead kidnapped from his home world. Forced into the harem to serve at the Master's will, he learns to survive however he can. Things change for the stranger when a diplomat from another world arrives. Qui-Gon is a knight on a mission to evaluate the planet for admission into the Republic.Rating – Overall, NC-17, chapter ratings varyDisclaimer – This is a work of fiction. I make no claims upon the lovely dears whom I am cloning. No offense to their sensibilities. Severe AU warning: it really didn’t happen. Don’t sue. You won’t get anything but bills.I wrote this story ages ago for a different fandom. I have resurrected and re-written it to flow better for the Star Wars Universe.





	1. Memories of despair

**Author's Note:**

> Rating - PG
> 
> Wherin we learn the history of his life.

I stand now on the foredeck of a magnificent sailing ship. The swift wind caresses my face, blowing the stench of slavery from my body. With one hand on the figurehead and one on the rail I lean out slightly to watch the waves break into foam against the prow. My eyes catch sight of sleek silvery forms racing the ship below me. Dolphins. I never thought I’d see them again. I never thought I’d see the ocean again either. The water races past the hull as we cut effortlessly through the deep blue on our way at long last to the spaceport that will take me to the homeland of my savior, my friend. And yet he’s so much more than all that.

My name is Ben, and until three days ago I was a harem slave in the royal house. I had been abducted from my native planet and shipped with hundreds of other newly enslaved beings to the capitol city of this world where we were auctioned off. It was there that for the first time, yet not the last, I cursed my life. We were each collared and bound, crammed into small cells with little food or water, and no privacy at all. I was 6.

When we arrived, we were separated into groups. The criteria seemed random at the time, but I know better now. The males and females were sorted out by origin, appearance, and age, and the more beast-like beings removed into cages. We waited many days while even more people were brought in and segregated. Finally, the day came when we were brought out into the light of our new world.

On that fateful day the harem master was ordering luxuries for the palace and passed by the auction house just as I was led onto the platform. The auctioneer labeled me ‘exotic, graceful, and finely formed for his age’. He further espoused my promised improvement in both physical stature and appearance as I aged. I was quickly sold off to the slave quarters for the House for an apparently large sum.

My first position in the House was in the gardens. There I was trained to care for the extensive and varied plant life, many of which had been imported from other worlds as I had been. The Gardener was relentless, short in his explanations, and ruthless in his punishments. In the early months of my education I bore a constant assortment of colors left by his hands for any infraction, major or minor. He never broke me; it would be an inconvenience he could little afford. Eventually, I grew competent and was allowed to work unsupervised and unpunished. I was 10.

One day, the harem master found me once again. I was working to prune a particularly magnificent tree from a world whose name I never learned. I was perched high in the branches, twisted and twined between them, mistakenly thinking I was hidden from view, when I heard the Gardener speak. No dramatic speech or imperious thundering, just a firm command ordering me down. I climbed down quickly, knowing hesitation would result in punishment, which had once again increased in both frequency and brutality.

I was startled to see the harem master standing beside him, both of them considering me intently. After a brief but heated exchange, wherein the Gardener protested the loss of his best worker, the harem master stated that it wasn’t a request. But he promised to send a new boy immediately. I was seized by two guards I hadn’t seen and dragged to the palace proper, directly to the harem. I was 16.

For eight long months I endured the shameful and abhorrent training they provided, designed to break the spirit and train the body’s responses, before being declared ready to serve the House. Eventually my soul shut itself away in the depths of my heart in order to protect itself from being irrevocably damaged. I was now the recipient of knowledge regarding human nature that my mind still shies away from. Things that will continue to haunt me the rest of my days and shadow each of my nights.

What saved the little sanity that I retained was training in the more domestic duties. Each of the slaves had received the same kind of intimate training I had, as was the norm in the harem. We were designed to be interchangeable, so that no one would get the idea that they were irreplaceable. We were non-beings, exchangeable pieces of flesh that had no rights or say regarding our fate. I leaned many things that I may eventually use in other circumstances. Among them the ability to coordinate clothing, cook, and serve the table at a formal dinner. And the gardening. Those are the ones I care to remember. The others…. No, I’ll not think of those now. But later, I will tell you a small portion of those.

I was lucky. I got out of there before being forever destroyed. I still had hopes and dreams, desires for people and places yet unseen. There were many others were not so fortunate. I had met one slave who had served in the harem for over ten years. The intervening years had whittled away at his sanity and spirit. He had been sorely used repeatedly and as a result he never spoke, keeping to himself at all times. The only ones able to touch him were the attendants, the Master, or whomever the Master decreed was his owner for a time, but only after being drugged to near insensibility. Anyone else and he would be reduced to a gibbering mass of flesh, unable to perform the slightest act. Unable to even care for himself in the most basic of ways.

I thank the Gods, or what my friend calls the Force, that I have been delivered from such a fate. I have no idea what I have done to deserve the pardon from that life, but whatever it was I would keep doing it every day to stay free. It was entirely possible that I would have ended up the same way as that poor man. He had once been the favorite, the most beautiful, the most obliging. When I entered the harem, I had unfortunately been awarded those dubious honors. Then the real hell began, and I lived there for the next four years, enduring more than any being should be subjected to.

Until the day my life changed for the better. Although it began just as any other day, it was the day I met my savior. This is where I will begin my story.


	2. Twist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating - PG
> 
> And so it begins
> 
>  
> 
> *Edits and changes made.

As I said, the day began just like all the others. Our attendants awakened us and provided bread and fruit to break our fast, as well as a jug of water. As I ate I slowly let my eyes wander around the spacious hall. From what I have heard, our quarters were mirrored in size, shape, layout and use by the women’s harem. There were only men in this harem. The Master likes variety, and it showed in his selection of slaves, as well as the appointments of the room.  
Each slave had an area identical in every way to those around him. It was a curtained cubby that contained a feather-filled pallet, silk sheets, and a comfortable pillow. That was the extent of the contents. No personal touches existed; they were against the rules and punishable in the worst manner.

First thing in our daily ritual was physical training. The Master wanted all of us to be in top shape for our body type, claiming it made us more desirable. We were led in groups into a large gymnasium fitted with rings, bars, weights, and mats from one wall to the next. Our attendants directed our individual routines to improve flexibility, strength, and endurance. All were important aspects for our duties as body slaves. We never knew what acts the Master would order us to do to keep the House happy.

Next in our day was to rid us of the evidence of the physical training. Right on schedule the attendants returned to lead us, one at a time, into the grooming area of the harem. My turn came in a surprisingly short time and I followed my attendant with trepidation. This was not a good sign. I was usually near the last of the group to go. Today I was lead to the bathing pool where I was scrubbed within an inch of my life with a soap that was a contradiction of textures. It was silky and smooth yet abrasive enough to remove the top layer of my flesh, leaving my pale skin rosy. Next my hair was washed with fragrant soap. It had once been dyed black, but time and the Master’s decree had allowed it to grow out into my natural copper color. Once I was dried I was lead to a padded table.

The attendant covered my body with oil. He rubbed and manipulated my muscles until the oil had been worked into my skin and I was relaxed and limber. From there I was lead to the artist. Yet another bad sign. He was surrounded by pots of paint and there were brushes scattered around him. I was prodded into position before him. It was as I feared. No one saw the artist unless they were required to serve the Master.

He looked at me with a startled owl-like expression before recognition dawned. He made a pleased sound to himself and started sorting through the pots around him for the colors that had been assigned to me. I sat patiently as he lined my chameleon eyes and colored my lips. When he was satisfied he presented me with a mirror. I looked at myself in mixed horror and fascination. Each time I saw my face like this I was stunned.

The delicate bones of my jaw and cheeks had been bronzed to show them off. My eyes, normally a deep shade between blue and gray surrounded by long thick lashes, had been ringed with kohl and now looked positively huge. The final touch was a hint of pink painted onto my full lips and covered with a flavored oil to make them shine. Just as I returned the mirror and had thought myself finished with the ministrations, a hand appeared before my face.

Hanging from the fingers was an earring. My brain screamed denial as my fingers released the simple gold hoop from my left ear, the mark of a slave. Ironically, I wanted to hold onto that piece of jewelry, because relinquishing it for the other was to seal my fate. Thank the Gods my training kicked in and I didn’t balk. I fastened the larger, emerald-encrusted hoop to my ear as my mind raced. The emeralds meant that it was not the Master I was to serve, but a dignitary of his choosing.

Just as the panic welled up within me, my attendant arrived with a goblet. The contents were well known to me. We called it the Drink. It had begun its life as wine, but that was many moons ago. It had since been laced with drugs designed to dull the will and to fire the passions. I had no choice, it would be forced into me one way or another. So, I drank it as swiftly as possible. I returned the goblet and into my hand was placed a plain silver ring. Numbly I slipped it onto my cock and held it in place.

Soon I felt the Drink take effect. My mind began to fade into the distance. It was like living in a dream; nothing felt real. It was all someone else’s life, watched from far away. My skin grew flushed as the drugs in my system set my blood on fire as it raced through my body to pool at last in my groin. My fingers released the ring, knowing that it would now remain in place.

I was helped to stand and lead to the large doors leading to the main body of the House. As I stood waiting to be escorted out, my attendant helped me into a simply cut, deep blue silk robe and provided a head veil of the same shade. The robe had no closures, and so the entire front of my naked body was displayed, including the hardened flesh now jutting from my body. I felt no embarrassment. The Drink ensured it and besides, it had been trained out of me long before, so I just waited, my mind drifting.

Finally, the doors opened and I was lead into the House. A dozen turns and some stairs later, we arrived before the immense wooden doors leading to the Great Hall. My fate lurked behind those doors, but my distant mind was completely oblivious to that fact. But soon, I would realize my life would never be the same.


	3. Diplomat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating - PG
> 
> Wherein he learns his fate

I stared ahead at the massive doors leading into the Great Hall, waiting, resigned, not entirely aware. My attendant addressed the guard at the door who in turn passed through a smaller door to the right. I closed my eyes and my mind could imagine the actions that would now begin.

The guard would inform the page inside the hall that I was here and then return to his post. I opened my eyes to find my timing correct as the guard did indeed return. My eyes closed again. The page would scurry quickly to the dais where the Master waited. He would kneel and wait to be noticed by the Chancellor. Eventually the Chancellor would see him and demand information. Next, the Chancellor would stand patiently waiting to be recognized by the Master. The knowledge that I had arrived would be passed to him and the page sent to tell the door guards to admit me. His duty done, the page would return to his place. Again, my eyes opened. The doors swung open to reveal the Great Hall.

This massive room was lavish in its appointments, covered from wall to wall with rugs of the thickest pile and silk covers on the walls and windows. At the end of this hall lay my fate and my attendant led me there. When we arrived at the dais I automatically knelt on the pillow provided for that purpose, arms clasped behind my back, forehead on the floor.

The Master ignored us for a time, deep in a discussion with the man to his right. When at last he acknowledged our presence, his command was that I rise to sit up. I complied, my head still bowed beneath the veil. From the corner of my eye I looked curiously at the visitor. He sat in a plainly decorated chair of a smaller scale than the throne that held the Master. He was tall and broad and seemed quite at ease in the presence of majesty. My musings were brought up short by the booming voice of the Master.

“To show our hospitality and goodwill towards your Senate and Council, I present you will this slave for the duration of your stay with us. You will find him most pleasing and obedient.” He paused to consult the Chancellor. “One of my advisors will show you and your entourage to the quarters we have made ready for you. We will meet again two hours after midday.”

With that the visitor rose to bow before the Master and turned to be led from the Hall. My attendant waited for the visiting group to leave, then touched my shoulder indicating that I should stand and follow him. I complied and was lead from the Hall to follow the rest. A few more turns and one set of stairs later we were lead into the wing where they would reside for their stay.

Five suites of rooms surrounded a modest garden, two on each side, left and right, and the largest at the far end. The Master’s advisor allocated the suites to the entourage by twos and threes until finally the only people left were myself and my attendant, and the visitor.

The advisor opened the door to admit the tall man and I was led by my attendant to one of the many pillows scattered through the entry to await instruction. Once again, I knelt with arms clasped behind my back and forehead on the floor. The advisor led the visitor through the suite instructing him to the uses of each of the many rooms: the living area with a cubby for the communications tech and computer terminal; a small food preparation area; the large bedroom leading to the spacious bathing room; a dining area large enough for the diplomat’s entourage. Then the advisor left to return to his post. 

My attendant had followed their progress through the rooms and was currently in the process of instructing my newest master. “He is yours to command at all times. He is trained to perform a wide variety of tasks, including but not limited to cooking your meals, cleaning the apartment and yourself, serving meals, and performing any acts which please you. The only time you will be without him is early morning so that we may provide his grooming. For this I will return to collect him at sunrise. He will then be returned to you.” His duty now complete, my attendant left to return to the harem. I was now alone with a man I had never met, and he had no idea that my life was in his hands.


	4. Greetings, my Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating - PG
> 
> Ben meets the mysterious diplomat.

My new master wandered the lavishly decorated rooms for a bit before remembering that I was there. When he finally noticed me, he hurried to stand before me. “I’m sorry, I forgot you were still here; you are so quiet in the Force. And there are no slaves where I am from.” He paused a moment. From my limited viewpoint he did indeed seem uncomfortable. “Sit up, would you? I hate seeing anyone like that.” I complied, as any good slave would, yet continued to keep my head inclined and arms clasped. “Come this way.” I rose on numb legs to follow him into the living area. After a moment of indecision, he gathered his robes and sat cross-legged on a low couch and faced me. I took my place before him, head bowed.

“Can you take that thing off? I’d like to see who I’m talking to,” he said waving a hand in the general direction of my head. His voice was soft and deep, accented with a foreign dialect and tinged with a slight bit of discomfort. I raised my hand and removed the offending veil, dropping it to the side. “Look at me,” he commanded softly. I lifted my eyes and focused on his artfully bearded chin. He sighed in exasperation. “You are allowed to look me in the eyes. I don’t like to talk to people if I can’t see their faces.” I moved my focus upward and was caught.

Sad cerulean eyes gazed into my blue ones. His face, overall, was fine-boned, broad, and slightly angular. He possessed a strong chin, slightly crooked nose, and mobile mouth. It was a stunning picture framed by long chestnut hair. My first thought was that he was lucky he was here as a dignitary, otherwise his training would have begun immediately. He was much younger than I had thought an ambassador should be, not more than ten years older than myself. My second was that the Master had shown great restraint in allowing him to remain free. Of course, if he hadn’t shown restraint there would have been problems with this one’s rulers. A Council and Senate I vaguely recalled. Then I stopped thinking altogether.

“That’s better.” I watched his mouth move, barely registering the words he spoke. I was completely entranced. My brain began to scream at me that I should take care with this master. My soul was in danger, it cried. Perhaps the problem was the man himself. My pulse, already swift due to the drugs, sped up considerably. The arousal the Drink initiated grew more pronounced as I continued to gaze at him. My chest constricted as the realization that this man was now in complete control over my life slammed into me full force. My fear was immediately swept away by the feel-nothing caused by the drugs in my system.

As if in a dream I watched him raise his hand, long fingered and agile, before my face. He proceeded to wave it before my eyes. His voice came to me as if from a distance. “Hello? Is something wrong?” Regaining some semblance of thought I shook my head and once more dropped my eyes from that dangerous visage. Dangerous only to my sanity, that is. Another sigh issued forth from that luscious mouth, but this time I controlled my eyes and did not look.

“You don’t seem to be quite all there. I wonder why… Why won’t you look at me,” he mused, seemingly to himself. I felt his gaze travel over my flushed body, catching at my groin. “Force,” he muttered and averted his eyes. “Could you… Is that normal?” I nodded. “Well, isn’t there a belt or something to hold that robe closed?” I shook my head no. Still another sigh was voiced. “Well, then. Hold it closed, would you?” I complied, placing my hands in my lap when the desired result was achieved, slightly confused. Surely, he knew the offering of my body was part of the Master giving me as his slave? I had heard the attendant tell him so.

From the corner of my eye I saw him prop his head in his hands, elbows balanced on his bent knees. “What has he gotten me into this time?” Again, he seemed to speak to himself, and so I remained silent. His words were muffled slightly when he spoke again. “Can you speak?” I nodded then realized he couldn’t see the movement.

“Yes, Master.” My voice, rarely used these last twelve months, was scratchy and raw. It apparently startled him, for his eyes flew to my face when I answered.

“What’s wrong with your voice? Don’t they ever let you talk?” I shook my head no. His graceful fingers rubbed his forehead in aggravation. “Well, since I am apparently your keeper for a while, any time we are together you are to speak when I talk to you. Understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“And don’t call me that if there’s no one around, okay? My title is Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. You may call me Qui-Gon.” I simply nodded. My life was starting to grow very strange. Little did I know how much more would change within the next few days.


	5. You're my what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating - PG
> 
> In which Qui-Gon gets embarrassed

At long last my new master, Qui-Gon he was called, dropped his hand to his knee. He allowed his eyes to travel the room, touching on points now and then before turning that stormy gaze to me. After a moment of staring, he spoke again, apparently resigned to the fact I was not leaving. “So, what is it exactly that I’m supposed to do with you? They neglected to include any of this in the briefing I was given. I haven’t the slightest idea what the customs here are. So, please explain your duties to me.”

Ah, now this I could do without thought. Which was good, for my treacherous body refused to calm itself in his presence. “I am to serve you in any way you desire. I am able to act as your groom, or personal servant, and to help you to conduct your business during your stay. I have been taught to keep accounts and to entertain you and any guests with sleight of hand, singing, or dancing, and have been tutored in a variety of games.” I inhaled deeply before continuing, hoping that by racing through the next few words he would miss the implications. “My silence in all things ensures that you may use me as lover or confidant, and your thoughts and preferences will not leave this suite. If you wish, I can keep the rooms tidy, arrange the furnishings to your liking and serve your meals. I am bound to be anything you need me to be.” It was not to be.

His head snapped up to stare open-mouthed at me. He gaped, looking a little like a fish out of water, before finding his voice again. “My what? Surely, I misunderstood? They can’t expect me to… ” He waved his hand in the direction of my lap. “Do they?” His discomfort was clear. I fought the urge to squirm beneath his glare.

My heart fell to my stomach. “I humbly apologize if my words were unclear, master. My mind and body are yours to command. In any way you desire.” I bowed my head again so I wouldn’t have to see that lovely face contorted in disbelief, and waited.

Shock tinged his words when he finally spoke again to himself. “I’m going to kill him. He knew about this, the bastard.” His body transmitting his amazement he turned to throw himself onto the couch. He continued to mutter to himself, lifting one long arm to cover his eyes. Shortly, however, his voice trailed away leaving only silence. I started to wonder if he had fallen asleep.

I let my mind drift, allowing the thoughts to flow through without a pause for further contemplation. Soon I was startled out of my musings by a low grumbling noise. My eyes flew to the couch, expecting to see his angered face. Instead, I saw him lay a quieting hand on his stomach. Inwardly I sighed my relief. As still more time passed without command from him, I began to argue with myself over the next act. I decided it would be best to be too efficient than to be thought of as incompetent. I cleared my throat to speak. “Shall I serve you, master?”

His head snapped up, arm dropping from his eyes. “Excuse me?” He stared at me as if I had grown another head.

I squirmed a bit beneath his scrutiny. “I heard your stomach growl. Shall I serve your meal now?”

He visibly relaxed, his head falling back onto the couch, and his breath left him in a whoosh. “Oh. I thought you meant… Well, never mind what I thought. Yes, please. Some food would be great.”

Silently I rose and walked through the archway into the entry hall where invisible servants had placed a tray loaded with an array of treats and beverages. I carried the tray beneath another arch into the dining room and began to arrange the offerings on the low table. Once I had placed everything to my liking, I returned to the common room and knelt beside him to await his notice.

There was none forthcoming. Eventually I spoke again. “Master?” No response. I tried again, slightly louder. “Master?” Had he fallen asleep in such a short time? Once again, I spoke. “Qui-Gon?” His eyes opened, and his head turned to me. I sat uncomfortably beneath that gaze waiting for his instruction.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to call me by name,” he murmured. With a sigh he sat up and swung his feet to the floor. “Is the food here?” I nodded. “Lead on, then. I’m starved.” I rose to escort him into the dining room. I indicated to him that he should sit on the cushion provided. The kitchen staff had provided two kinds of bread, an array of cheese, assorted fruit, cold slices of ham and a half a cold chicken. I began to place a portion on each offering onto his plate before speaking again. “There is wine, water and honey mead. Which do you prefer?” I indicated each of the choices in turn and waited.

“The mead, please.” He watched my motions for a time before asking, “Aren’t you going to eat something?” I shook my head no and sat back to await his next command. “Aren’t you hungry?” I nodded. He sighed in confusion then cleared his throat. “Well then, as your master, I order you to eat something. I don’t want you passing out from hunger.”

He waited until I had taken what I wanted before he started to eat. He nodded slightly at me as I tentatively nibbled at the bread and fruit. Time passed in comfortable silence.


	6. Nap time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated - PG
> 
> In which Qui-gon has an afternoon nap and scares the crap out of Ben

When we were at last done sating our hunger, Qui-Gon leaned back on his hands and looked around the room. He tried in vain to stifle a huge yawn and looked sheepishly in my direction. “Is there somewhere I can take a nap?” I nodded and rose to lead him into a corner of the common room. There a daybed had been placed, curtained off by silk hangings. He sighed and sat on the edge. I moved to kneel at his feet and placed my hand on his firm calf. His startled eyes gazed at me questioningly until I began to remove his soft knee-height boot. He laughed at himself and relaxed a bit as I moved to the other foot. As I placed the slouching leather at the foot of the bed he swung his legs up and lay back. “What time is it?” he murmured. I glanced out the window at the shadows.

“Just before midday,” I calculated.

Another sigh. “Very well, then. Wake me when it’s time to leave for the audience.” And with those words, he had drifted off. I watched him as his face relaxed in sleep. Worry lines I had not noticed before smoothed out and made him seem incredibly young. For the moment I was unconcerned that I would be noticed and so my gaze traveled over his recumbent form.

My scrutiny began at the point furthest from me. His head. His chestnut hair had been bleached of color in places. That and the golden tone of his skin bespoke a great amount of time spent in the sun. The cross-folded layers of the tunics he wore had gaped open slightly when he lay down revealing a firm, slightly hairy chest and toned stomach. The heavy belt he wore seemed out of place on his narrow hips. His trousers were loose and had been tucked into the boots I had removed. Long narrow feet completed the picture before me. The effect overall was a pleasing sight.

My afternoon passed quietly. I kept my gaze on him the entire time, with only short pauses to check the shadows. For the first time in months I felt nearly human. What was it about this man that caused that? When at last the time came for me to awaken him I moved to kneel at his head. My voice was soft so that I wouldn’t startle him as I made the first attempt. “Qui-Gon?” No response. I tried again with the same results. Growing anxious that he may become late I lifted my hand to brush an errant lock of hair from his face as I spoke his name again.

Before I could blink his hand had shot out to clamp down on my wrist like a vise and begun to twist my arm away from his head. His eyes flew open. As realization dawned in his face he released my wrist as if burned. Frantically I put my forehead to the floor and clasped my injured wrist behind my back. How foolish I was to start to think like a free man. I had forgotten the primary rule. No action without command; no initiating contact. I waited for punishment that never came.

As I tried to ignore the throbbing pain in my wrist I faintly heard him sit up and swing his feet to the floor. “Sit up.” I obeyed instantly, panicked, and focused on his chin. He rubbed his face with his hands and tried to rouse himself from half-sleep. “Is it time to go?” he mumbled through his fingers.

“Soon, master.” I was proud that my voice shook only slightly. My mind raced as it considered the possible punishments for my actions. In my fear, it was the title that caught his attention.

“Master? You were calling me Qui-Gon a moment ago.” He dropped his hands to look at my shaking body. Understanding came in a flash. “Let me see your arm.” He sounded genuinely concerned at his actions. I offered the injured limb for his inspection, my eyes down. The bruises I had felt forming were blooming in riotous color before his eyes. His breath hissed between his teeth as he cradled my wrist in his hands. “Gods, I’m sorry. You startled me awake. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His long fingers drifted lightly over the hideous mark. “You sure do bruise easily, don’t you?” I didn’t answer, knowing one was not expected. He sighed deeply before speaking again. “Don’t be afraid of me. It was an accident.” He paused, lost in thought. Something had occurred to him. “You expected me to punish you. Why?”

My confused brain was shouting jumbled thoughts at me, and so it was my mouth that provided a response. “You gave me no permission to touch you so familiarly, so punishment is expected to remind me of my place. I am yours to do with as you please. My body is yours. If it is your wish to injure it, so be it.” I paused to let that information sink in. “I am to serve you however you desire.”

He sat stunned into silence as the full implications of my words struck him. “How can a man live like that?” was his numb response.

I whispered the horrible truth to him. “I ceased to be a man when I was captured. I am a slave. Without rights, and trained to have no thoughts. I simply am.”

We sat staring at each other for what seemed an eternity before I gathered the courage to act again. I gingerly withdrew my wrist from his hand and crawled to the foot of the bed to retrieve his boots. “They will be here soon to escort you to the audience chamber. You should prepare.”


	7. First meeting and breaking the ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating - PG
> 
> In which notes are taken and a laughing fit is had

He sat silent as I slid his boots onto his feet, tucking the ends of his trousers firmly into the cuffs. When I had finished he stood and started towards the door. My hand on his foot stopped him. He turned his questioning gaze to my upturned face. I said nothing but simply began to straighten his clothing.

I tugged at the faint wrinkles in his trousers and adjusted the wide belt around his narrow waist before standing behind him. I ran my hands lightly across his shoulders and back smoothing the soft fabric into place. Moving around to stand before him I repeated the motions across his firm chest and, glancing at him for permission, straightened the folds of his tunics. I located the heavy brown robe he had discarded earlier and helped him back into it. Gently, I hand-pressed the fabric into place, tugging it into precise lines over his back and shoulders. I stood back, looking him over critically, and deciding he was presentable. My head nodded absently.

“Thank you,” he murmured. A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Are you allowed to accompany me to the meeting?” 

I considered his question a brief moment before answering. “I believe so. It would seem as though you anticipated the need of my services during the meeting.”

He hesitated a moment, flushing slightly. It was quite an attractive sight. He opened his mouth to speak again but no sound issued forth. “Does that happen often during meetings?” he finally managed to ask. I shrugged, as if to indicate it was a not-uncommon occurrence in the palace. After a moment he turned for the door. I followed, making a slight detour to retrieve my veil. Just as we reached the portal a knock sounded. I rushed to open it, head bowed. On the other side stood one of the advisors.

“I have come to escort you to see the King.” Qui-Gon motioned for him to precede him before jerking his head at me to indicate that I should follow them. The advisor, seeing this, looked slightly uncomfortable but said nothing. After hastily adjusting the veil on my head, I followed them through the courtyard and out into the house. We were joined in our journey by two of Qui-Gon’s party, apparently also part of the awaited meeting.

We were led down the gilded halls to a small anteroom off the Great Hall. After a short wait, we were ushered to the massive desk that dominated the room. Qui-Gon sat in a comfortable looking chair as one of the servants rushed to bring a pillow for me to kneel on. Automatically I placed my forehead on the floor, hands behind me. Qui-Gon’s companions took seats beside him.

Qui-Gon addressed the servant. “My slave will need a small writing desk and scribing materials for this meeting.” He darted back out the door and returned bearing the requested items. As they were placed before me I sat up, abandoning the slave’s posture and arranging the materials to suit me. This was unanticipated, but I would do my best to please.

When we had settled ourselves, the door behind the desk opened. My Master entered, led by two of his advisors and the Chancellor. The advisors took chairs to the left of the desk while the Chancellor stood behind the Master as he sat. My presence elicited only a raised eyebrow.

The afternoon passed swiftly in conversation. My pen flew across the pages, taking down every item that was discussed and making copious notes regarding them. Refreshments were served during the talks that Qui-Gon indicated that I should also partake of. This caused another raised eyebrow, which Qui-Gon ignored. I nibbled my way through a slice of cheese as I scribbled furiously. As the meeting dragged on my stamina decreased to the point that I made note only of those things I felt were of interest to Qui-Gon and his party. I was nervous about my decision, as I didn’t want to seem impertinent, and committed the parts I omitted to memory for retrieval later. We would see what came of it when we returned to the rooms.

At last they had exhausted every topic they were to discuss. Qui-Gon rose to bow to my Master as I gathered the pages around me. “If it is no inconvenience, we shall take the writing desk with us. My slave will need them later.” At a nod from the Master I packed everything into the desk and followed Qui-Gon back to the suite.

Once inside the rooms he motioned to a corner and told me to put the desk down. When I made my way back to him he reached up to pull the veil from my head. “I hate this thing,” he told me as he tossed it over his shoulder. “You did very well. Thank you. I’ll look at the notes after dinner. They will be bringing it soon, won’t they?” His stomach grumbled to emphasize the point. I tried not to smile as I nodded my head. “Shush, you!” he told his errant body, grinning at me as he did so.

I couldn’t help myself. I burst into giggles. I tried to quiet them, not sure of his reaction. Imagine my surprise when he started to chuckle as well. He collapsed onto the pillows and tried to bring himself under control. I knelt beside him and attempted to do the same. Soon we had laughed ourselves out.

I left him sitting there and checked the hall to see if his dinner had been delivered. The tray sat on the table, awaiting me. I carried it into the dining area and proceeded to lay it out. Tonight, we had hot vegetables, beef and chicken, as well as the ever-present bread, cheese and fruit. Once I had set everything out, I returned to the common room to retrieve my master.

“Food’s here?” he asked. At my nod he rose and followed me back into the room. I served him in silence, a smile on my face. At his insistence, I again chose those items I wished to eat, and dinner continued in comfortable quiet.


	8. A quiet evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating - PG
> 
> In which Qui-Gon asks personal questions

After dinner we returned to the common room. Qui-Gon requested the notes I had taken. I provided them and sat quietly at his knee while he read them. After a while my mind began to drift, replaying the events of the day. Finally, he spoke.

“This is very good. You seem to know exactly what I wanted to record.” He paused, rubbing his forehead as if to ward of headache. “At the beginning there’s a lot of fluff I don’t really need, though. I’d like you to go over it again and copy the important stuff. We don’t need notes on the small talk. Just do like you did in the later notes. Okay?” I nodded. “Good.” He sighed, closed his eyes, and leaned back in the chair.

By this time night had fallen and roaming servants had passed through the rooms lighting the lamps. I took the pages in question and sat at the desk to recopy them as he had requested. He was right. At the beginning of the meeting I had taken down every topic of discussion. Including the weather, the tides and predictions on the harvest. When I had weeded out the unnecessary information I put the pages away carefully and returned to sit beside him.

He appeared to be asleep. Sometime during the evening he had removed his robe and loosened his tunics. I glanced around and found the robe in question hanging on for dear life on an arm of the couch. I retrieved the garment and folded it neatly over the back. I returned to sit at his knee. After a moment during which he failed to acknowledge my presence, I rose and went to the bedchamber.

The bed had been made with fresh linens that had been turned down and scented with a calming fragrance. I pulled the light silk hangings on the bed back to the posts and opened the ones at the window to let in the night breeze. I double checked every aspect of the room and made my way back to Qui-Gon. When I lowered myself to kneel at his side he opened his eyes and looked at me. I think I jumped slightly. “You’re awake?”

He nodded before stretching his long limbs. “Meditating. Where were you?”

“I was making sure the bedchamber was prepared for you.” I shifted beneath his gaze.

“Ah. Well, I’m not quite ready to go to bed yet.” I nodded my understanding and awaited his command. It seemed I was now expected to fulfill my role as slave. My heart stopped beating. I had foolishly allowed myself to think he was different from the others; that I was simply to be a companion during my service to him. I schooled my mind into silent acceptance and stared at his feet. But then, “Do you know how to play chess?”

My eyes flew to his face, certain he was just torturing me by prolonging the moment. But there, in his eyes, was curiosity. I nodded that, yes, I did know how to play the game. A smile lit his face. “Good. Let’s set up the board. Do you want to be black or white?” I shrugged my indifference and moved with him to the game board to set up the pieces. My heart lifted itself back into its place as we settled down to our game.

He was a very intuitive player. For every move I made he had a countermove that would eventually jeopardize my pieces. As the evening passed and we grew tired our moves became less organized. Finally, he sat back in his chair and lifted his leg to lean on the arm. He regarded me silently for a moment. “Doesn’t that hurt?” I indicated my confusion and he blushed deeply. He motioned vaguely toward my lap. “Doesn’t it hurt you to be in that state all the time? And how in the world is it possible?”

Ah, so that was the question. I shrugged. “We are given a drink that causes our bodies to be in a constant state of arousal. It also dulls the wits slightly and gives everything a dreamlike quality.” I paused to consider. “Perhaps that is why it doesn’t hurt.”

He shook his head, propping his head in his hand, elbow on his raised knee. “I cannot believe they do that to you.” He seemed to speak to himself, so I remained silent. “Well, I can’t have you dull witted if you’re going to act as my secretary. Is there a servant around?”

“There should be a couple in the courtyard awaiting instruction.”

“Good. Call one for me, would you?”

I rose and went to the door. Upon its opening I stepped out into the darkened courtyard and found one of the servants waiting just outside the door. I motioned for him to enter and trailed behind as he made his way to Qui-Gon. I resumed my seat at the chessboard while he issued his instructions.

“I want you to go find my slave’s attendant. Tell him that in the morning when they fetch him he is not to be given that damnable potion. I need him to have his wits about him while I’m here. Do you understand?” The servant nodded. “Good. You can go. If there is a problem, send the attendant to see me.” The servant nodded again and bowed out of the room.

His stormy gaze fixed upon me, pinning me to the chair upon which I sat. “You know, I don’t even know your name.”

I shifted beneath that gaze, my voice soft when I spoke. “They call me Fahr.” Apparently, this did not satisfy him.

“They? Who are they?”

“The attendants, the Master. When I was purchased for the palace they named me Fahr.” My body tensed in a shame that I had not felt in years and I dropped my eyes to my lap.

A moment passed in silence. When next he spoke, it was in a soft voice. “I don’t give a damn what they call you. I want to know your name. The one your parents gave you.”

I looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes and found sympathy and genuine curiosity in his gaze. I have no idea what possessed me. For some reason I couldn’t tell this man no. So, I took a deep breath and gifted him with the one thing that until this point had remained mine alone. “My name is Ben.”


	9. Clarifications and bedtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Qui-Gon puts his foot down, and Ben puts him to bed

I sat uncomfortably silent and waited for a reaction. He simply gazed at me, seeming to take my measure as a human being. Finally, he nodded and said, “It’s your move.” My attention immediately returned to the board.

We played for a while longer, our eyes fighting to stay open long enough to finish just one last game, when a knock sounded at the door. I looked to Qui-Gon for permission and received his nod. I rose and hurried to the door. On the other side was my attendant. I led him in to see Qui-Gon and regained my seat, keeping my eyes on the board.

“Is there a problem, Attendant?”

He bowed before answering. “Yes, sire. A servant brought me a message from you. I’m sure he must have misunderstood your instructions.” He looked nervous, shuffling his feet a tad.

Qui-Gon sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I will only say this once. This slave, whom you call Fahr, is not to be given that infernal drink again while he serves me. I need his mind clear and active. He will be serving as my secretary for the duration of my stay. As he is currently considered my property, I can do what I want with him. Is that understood?”

The attendant looked even more uncomfortable and visibly paled as he answered. “But sire, it is the Masters orders that all slaves currently in service are to partake of the drink. It ensures their obedience in all things.”

“I don’t care what the other slaves are doing.” Qui-Gon’s voice had become soft, edged with ice. “While he serves me, he will have his wits about him. That is my order. If he is returned to me in the mornings showing signs of that damned drink I will personally string you up by your balls. Understood?” The attendant, already white as a sheet, turned ghostly. His head, when he nodded jerkily, looked as if it would wobble off his neck in his fright. “Good. You are dismissed.” He returned his attention to the chessboard, ignoring the attendant.

Said attendant stumbled his way back to the door and let himself out. I stared at Qui-Gon. I was shocked at the vehemence he had shown. His long fingers reached out and moved his piece. When time had passed, and I continued to stare, he glanced up catching my gaze. A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Your turn. Although I could have just swept the board and you would never have noticed.”

I sent a dazed smile his way and continued the game. Eventually he did indeed sweep the field. With a long stretch and a huge yawn he suggested that we turn in. I rose and followed him into the bedchamber. While he completed his ablutions, I perched on the edge of the bed, awaiting his next command. He re-entered the chamber and saw me sitting quietly. Something apparently occurred to him at that moment. His eyes widened slightly before he asked, “Um…, where are you supposed to sleep?”

I grinned at him and indicated the pallet that had been brought from the harem and placed at the foot of his bed. “If you do not require me in your bed the pallet will serve. It’s where I usually sleep.”

His gaze found the pallet in question and nodded to himself, obviously relieved that he wasn’t going to have to share the bed with me. I contained a giggle at his embarrassment. He glared at me before softening the action with a smile. “Well, goodnight, then.” He removed his boots and climbed into the bed, not bothering to remove his remaining clothing.

I was intrigued by his modesty, but said nothing as I removed my robe and folded it neatly before placing it on a nearby chest. I did, however, notice that his eyes followed my naked form about the room while I extinguished the lamps. Just as I was putting out the last one, I let my eyes find his to let him know I’d seen him watching me. Just before the light vanished I saw a deep blush creep over his face. I smiled in the darkness and crawled into my pallet. I listened to his breathing, and by the time his had slowed I was out.


	10. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Qui has a bad dream and Ben offers a massage.

A while later I awoke with a start. Something had disturbed me, but I couldn’t say what it was. I lay on my pallet listening for the noise. When the sound failed to repeat I rolled over and started to drift off again.

Sleepily I noticed that during the night the slave’s ring had slipped from my now softened cock and lay beside me on the pallet. After a moment of hesitation, I picked it up and placed it beneath my pillow so it wouldn’t get lost. Just as I was almost asleep I heard the noise again. It was Qui-Gon, moaning and speaking in his sleep. Whatever was happening in his dream was causing him great distress.

Concerned, I threw back my sheet and knelt at the foot of the bed. The faint light coming in the window showed him thrashing about on the bed. Uncertain about my reception, I climbed on the bed and cautiously crawled to his side. “Qui-Gon?” I whispered softly. No reaction. I tried again, more loudly. “Qui-Gon, wake up.”

His eyes flew open, still haunted by the images in his dream. Slowly the haze cleared, and recognition dawned. “Ben? What’s wrong?” His voice was rough and gravelly.

Relieved, I slumped a bit and answered, “You were having a bad dream. You were talking to someone and sounded quite distressed.” I paused a moment before continuing. “I’m sorry if I acted incorrectly.”

His eyes closed again. “No, you did the right thing. Thank you.” I bit my tongue to keep from asking about his dream, but stayed where I was. After a moment he realized this and turned his gaze to me. “Is there something else?”

I hesitated a moment before volunteering information. I was quite proud of myself when I answered without stuttering. “You would be more comfortable if you undressed. And… ” My voice died out.

When no further words issued from my mouth, he prompted, “And what?”

“I could give you a massage, to relax you. It would help you to sleep.” I couldn’t make out his expression when I spoke. Moments passed in silence.

Finally, a deep sigh, and “What do you need me to do?”

I swallowed my relief and crawled off the bed. “First of all, you need to disrobe.” I grabbed his hand and prompted him to get up. When he complied, I proceeded to remove the belt from around his waist and loosen his tunic. He remained silent and still as I pushed it off his shoulders. I folded it and the belt neatly and placed them beside my robe on the chest.

I turned back to him and reached for his trousers. His hands lifted to push at mine. I swatted his hands away and undid the lacings. He made a growling noise and I tsked at him in response. Once the lacings were released I pushed the trousers down over his narrow hips and knelt at his feet to urge him to step out of them. He did so while mumbling about being a grown man and he could damn well undress himself. I hid my smile as I rose to place the pants next to his tunic.

I reached for one of the small globes that rested in a bowl on the chest. I shook it slightly and a soft light blossomed in my hand. What a marvelous find these things were. They were native to this land. They worked just like a lightning bugs’ butt, a chemical reaction that emitted light, but just enough to see by. They couldn’t be used to light an entire room, and so were used as a kind of night-light.

I turned to leave the room and motioned for him to get back on the bed, while keeping my eyes from roaming his form. I entered the bathing room and made my way to the short cabinet that resided there. I place my little light on a table nearby and opened the doors to reveal rows of small bottles. I riffled through them, occasionally sniffing at the contents before I found one that would suit Qui-Gon. After shaking the globe again, I closed the doors and made my way back to the bedchamber with my choice.


	11. Night things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A massage and a naughty dream

When I entered the room, I found him sitting up in bed contemplating his toes quite determinedly.  I couldn’t contain the giggle that escaped my throat and he jerked his head up to glare at me, a rosy glow creeping up his cheeks.  I schooled my face into calmness and placed the dying light globe back into the bowl with its friends.  As it expired the room was once more plunged into night.

As I walked to the bed I spoke.  “Stomach, please.”  He complied but started grumping again at being bossed around.  I smiled at his back and climbed into bed next to him.  After a moment of thought I gathered my nerve and straddled his hips to sit on his thighs.

His torso twisted around to allow him to look up at me.  His voice seemed a bit panicked as he asked, “What are you doing?”

Never before had I been assigned to such jumpy, and apparently sheltered, master.  I sighed and spoke in a soothing voice.  “I’m going to start with your back.  This is the best place for me to sit.  Please relax.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but returned to lying on his stomach.  He tucked his hands beneath the pillow and settled down at last.  I sighed again as I reached for the oil I had chosen for him.  I warmed it in my hands, releasing its spicy scent, and began to slowly work it into his skin.  Have I told you about his skin?  It’s a wonderful golden color, very smooth and soft.  Not that his body is soft, mind you.  There’s a lot of muscle under there: a lot of tense muscle at that moment.

My hands roamed over his powerful back and shoulders kneading and pressing at said muscles until they started to release the knots they were in.  Of its own volition my mind started a list of things I liked about him:  shoulders wide but not obscenely so; firm back that narrowed down to his trim waist; tight little ass.  I shook myself loose from these thoughts and scooted down to sit between his feet.  I started massaging his legs ordering myself to keep my professional attitude.  It worked… for a while.  Soon I was telling him to roll over.

When he did so I noticed that his protestations had long since stopped and he was actually starting to drift to sleep again.  I didn’t feel in any way insulted.  I simply smiled to myself and once again straddled his hips.  His eyes opened a bit and the bright emerald gaze glinted in the darkness.  He seemed to consider my actions for a moment before closing them again.  Taking this for permission to continue, I once again started my motions at his shoulders and worked my way slowly down his chest.

As my hands moved over his ribcage I realized that my fingers seemed determined to toy with his nipples.  Mortified, I jerked my hands from his chest and started on his arms.  I started thinking to myself that perhaps I had been in this place for far too long.  I was starting to lose myself.  I was freely considering things that a year ago I would have shunned.

Eventually I did refocus my attention on his chest and this time proceeded without incident to move my way down over his ridged stomach to his hips.  His breathing had long since deepened and I felt sure that he had fallen asleep again.  I decided to finish the massage and then leave him to his rest.

As I switched position to reach his legs, however, I noticed something.  His body had started to respond to my touch, evidenced by the slowly thickening shaft before my eyes.  I distractedly continued to work the muscles of his legs as I gave in to the urge to look my fill of him.  He had shifted his arms a bit so that one lay thrown out to his side, the other draped across his stomach.  His hand lifted with each breath he took.  My actions slowed as I watched him sleep.

Part of me wanted be selfish and taste him intimately, but he was unaware.  I had no desire to molest his person while he slept.  I wanted him awake and fully in the moment.  I sighed softly and crept carefully from the bed. I silently arranged the sheets over his body.  I stood a moment watching him before I crept back to my pallet.

Once I was burrowed under my covers, however, my mind would not settle.  My mind began to wander and picked up the fantasy where the reality left off.

_Gently, so as not to disturb him, I shifted position and knelt between his parted thighs.  I kept one eye on his face as I traced the juncture of hip and leg, burrowing my fingers into the coarse hair at the base of his growing arousal.  When I bent to taste him, his breath hitched before resuming its slow pace.  I felt like a deer in the headlights of a vehicle, frozen in place and afraid to move.  Soon, though, the moment passed, and my attention returned to the… urhm… task at hand, so to speak._

_My tongue darted out to wet my lips as I firmly, yet gently, took his large cock into my hand.  I took my time engulfing him with my mouth, getting used to the feel of him, until I had finally encompassed the full length of him.  My eyes had drifted closed and I was free to let my other senses give me all the input I required.  The scent of the oil I had covered him with combined with his natural musk to create a heady blend that I inhaled deeply._

_I pulled back until only the head of his cock remained in my mouth. I pressed it to the roof of my mouth with my tongue at the cleft beneath it and sucked gently.  A soft gasp escaped him, and I froze once more, my eyes darting to his face.  His head had rolled to the side and his breathing had begun to speed up, but he appeared to still be asleep._

_I continued to glide my mouth over his shaft pressing my tongue to the thick vein that throbbed just below the skin.  Occasionally I glanced up at him to find his fingers twitching on his stomach and the air leaving him in pants.  I was a man possessed, concerned only with bringing this lovely man pleasure.  I was completely lost.  Soon I felt his body begin to tense and I knew he would come at any moment.  I once more pulled back and pressed the head of him to the roof of my mouth and sucked at him._

_If my hands had not been pressed to his hips I am convinced that he would have arched completely off the bed as he quietly groaned his release._

_I continued to suckle gently at the now overly sensitive flesh until his breathing returned to a semblance of normalcy and then let him slip from my mouth.  I rested my head on his hip and watched as his hand released its death grip on the sheet, slowly straightening out to lightly stroke the silk._

_Running my tongue around inside my mouth I savored the taste of him_.

I pulled myself from my imaginings, breath coming in shallow pants as I calmed my overheated body.  Eventually I relaxed enough to feel the pull of sleep and rolled over to find my way into my own dreams.


	12. Information dump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Ben discovers the obvious part of the plan.

Early the next morning my attendant awakened me. I dressed once again in the blue robe of the day before, fished the ring from beneath my pillow, and quickly found the hastily discarded veil. Thus prepared, I followed him through the silent halls to the harem.

Just inside the door I disrobed, handed over the ring and the emerald earring, and was lead to a pillow where I made myself comfortable. Soon the rest of the men were awake and joining me in breaking our fast with fruit and water. The sound of soft conversation surrounded me, unintentionally reminding me of my status. Once finished, I was the first to be lead into the bathing rooms.

As on the previous morning I was scrubbed until my skin was pink and my hair shone brightly. Then I was ushered onto the table and once again manipulated into putty whose form resembled mine. Lastly, I was placed before the artist, who seemed startled as usual to find someone there. After a moment’s thought, and a brief shuffle through his paints, he began. This time he applied tint to my eyelashes as well as lining them with kohl. But it was the same pink color covered in flavored oil that adorned my lips today.

Apparently, the message had been received loud and clear the night before because the Drink was not offered to me. Instead, I was lead back to the door and presented with the earring once more. Next was an emerald colored robe and veil, which were straightened into place efficiently. Finally, I was lead once more to the suite where Qui-Gon waited.

When I entered the suite, I found him staring out groggily from one of the numerous windows at the waves crashing at the beach below. I stood silently, waiting to be noticed. Finally, he turned and saw me. He blinked at me a moment with his eyes at half-mast. I took advantage of his sleepiness and lead him into the bathing room. I ignored his mumbled protests and stripped him of the belted robe he wore. I urged him to sit on the bench and proceeded to run water into the near swimming-pool-sized tub.

Keeping my back to him I hastily slipped out of the robe and veil before retrieving the oil from the bedchamber. When I returned I tested the temperature of the water and, satisfied, turned off the taps. When I turned to face him, his eyes darted down to my waist as the now familiar rosy color flooded his face. Satisfied that his orders had been followed, he suddenly found his toes once again a fascinating pastime. I contained a grin as I moved to Qui-Gon’s side and herded him into the water.

He slowly began to wake up, eventually grousing in his usual manner about how he could damn well take care of his own bath, thank you. I simply smiled at him as a parent would a cranky child and finished washing his hair. At last I led him out of the water and keyed the drain with my toe before leading him to the table.

This time I used the water remaining on his body to dilute the oil I was using on him. It was a quick and efficiently brisk massage he got this morning. When I was done, I nudged him in the shoulder and maneuvered him into the bedchamber to find clean clothes for the day.

He mumbled something about needing to meet with his party this morning so that when he dined with the Master tonight he would have everything ready to go. I filed this information away and placed his tunics and robe on the bed. He had not yet said anything about the night before, so I began to relax and think that I had been correct, and he had fallen asleep before I left his bed.

Today he would wear essentially the same get up as yesterday. I found his boots and picked them up for later. I lead him into the dining area where I deposited him and his boots before retrieving the breakfast tray. We sat quietly, and I nursed a glass of juice while he munched his way through the meal.

By the time he was done he was fully awake. And as his mind awoke he began to look at me oddly. Almost like he was trying to figure out a problem. Perhaps because I was still unclothed? I decided that there was nothing to be done about it at that moment, should he confront me. So. As I cleared the table I asked, “Should I summon your companions now?”

He blinked blankly at me. “I didn’t realize I was talking aloud.” He hadn’t. Strange that he would think that. I just thought that would be the next logical action. “Hmmm, I need to watch that.” He stretched languidly, and I hear a series of snaps and pops. I hid a smile when he muttered, “Force, I sound like an old man.”

After donning my robe and veil once more I trailed behind him as he wandered aimlessly around the suite, the question forgotten. I found my eyes moving over him, lost in thoughts of my own. Fortunately, I snapped out of it before I ran into his suddenly immobile form.

“Please inform my party that they are to meet me here in fifteen minutes to go over the notes from yesterday’s meeting. When you get back, set up the writing desk next to that couch over there.” He pointed distractedly toward the couch in question. I slipped away unnoticed.

I made the rounds through the courtyard, delivering the summons, and then I returned to the suite to set up the writing desk as he had requested. Just as I was prepared the first knock came at the door. I rushed to answer it, bowing the visitors in. The flood of people began to flow into the rooms.

When the last person had arrived, I ducked out into the courtyard and motioned to one of the servants waiting there. He approached me reluctantly. The relationship between the hired servants and the slaves was tangled and somewhat convoluted. When a slave was not being required to serve, the servants treated us with contempt. Sometimes even going so far as to inflict small indignities, but never enough to cause visible damage. However, when a slave had been chosen to serve, the servants suddenly became the lower class. The fact that a slave could order about a servant, a free person, was the main reason for the hatred they had of us.

I kept my thoughts to myself and simply issued the necessary orders. The kitchen was to be informed that the party was meeting in Qui-Gon’s rooms and that refreshments should be sent immediately. Also, that they should be prepared to send the midday meal here as well. The servant bowed slightly, clearly chaffing, before turning to follow my instructions.

I sighed and collected myself before returning to Qui-Gon’s side. I took my place at the writing desk. I had collected the required notes earlier, and now found them in his hands as he spoke absently to one of his group. After a moment, he turned to me. I nodded my readiness to him and he called the meeting to order.

He began by relating the conversation of yesterday to the assembly. Questions were raised and answered. The entire time I scribbled furiously, taking down what I deemed important. The requested refreshments were delivered and served by the wait-staff that brought them. When the inquiries finally slowed to a stop, Qui-Gon began taking suggestions from his party in regard to that evenings meeting with the Master. I learned a lot about my current master and his planet and council that afternoon.

I learned that Qui-Gon was from the planet Coruscant and was part of the Jedi Temple there. They often became involved in trade negotiation as Jedi are regarded as a neutral party. For this trip, he had been sent to see if a trade agreement could be reached for some of the harder to import goods from Republican planets, but also to judge the readiness for our world to join the Republic. The negotiations so far had been circuitous and empty.

It was a well-known fact that the Master ruled a large portion of the southern continent. His fist reached to the immense mountain range to the southwest where the slave mines turned out tons of raw iron, silver, copper and gold each week. Those mountains were the farthest reach of his rule, composing a half circle wall around a lush valley. The fertile land produced more than enough food for the inhabitants of the country. The rare fruits had recently been found to create exquisite liquors. The valley extended all the way to the ocean on the northeast edge. That was where we were now.

One of the major points on the bargaining table was the matter of transport to the transit terminal. Qui-Gon was authorized to supply the means of delivery, but at an added cost. Apparently, the Master had a more than adequate fleet of air-ships, land vehicles and sailing ships to meet the needs he foresaw to ship his goods. This went over well with one faction of the group, but clearly disappointed another. I made a mental note of the factions for later discussion with Qui-Gon when we went over the notes.

During the conversation I noticed that all the members considered my presence at one point or another. My training had caused me to instinctively intuit the mood of those around me. Some were clearly intrigued by me, having apparently never seen a pleasure slave before. Others resented that I was present at what they deemed to be a matter of state. A few were sending overt glances my way. Glances that, if I had paid more attention, would have made me blush I think. It was the last two men of the group that bothered me however.

Just as Qui-Gon seemed to be about to comment on my fidgeting I looked up to find the servant motioning to me. He pantomimed that the afternoon meal had been laid out in the dining room. I nodded to him and he vanished back into the room.


End file.
